That's Professor Nevuw To You
by BlessedMay
Summary: Neville's a professor now and he's having loads of trouble coping with the first years.


Neville heard about the fight way before he could actually see it. Students were rushing by him, excited voices whispering about the latest first years getting into a fight before the sorting. As professor of herbology and the only teacher with enough patience to handle first years, it was up to him to sort out the fight and punish those in trouble. His own son was getting sorted in a few short moments, and from the words flitting throughout the castle, he was also involved in the fight. That knowledge however, did not perpare him for the sight that reached his eyes when he exited the castle to meet the first years out front.

Alexander Romulus Longbottom, middle name courtesy of his beloved Luna, had a fat lip, a black eye and appeared to be missing a tooth. He was currently trying to pull his wand out of his thick robes, but was inexperienced, therefore he was fumbling more than actually accomplishing anything. The young boy opposite him, on the other hand, appeared to be very experienced with a wand. He pulled out his wand and hexed Alex with flourish. Feathers were popping out of places Neville was unaware existed as his son began to flap around in circles making awkward quacking noises. The professor pulled out his wand and said,

"Finite incantatem."

The students immediately surrounding him stood back in shock, apparently nobody noticed his arrival. Alex stopped his frantic behavior and looked at his father with wide, blue eyes. He made noises of protest and started waving his arms about in a manner to suggest displeasure, but Neville silenced him with a raised hand. He turned a curious eye to the dark haired youth across the circle from his son. The young boy pushed thick strands of black hair out of his eyes while two girls of similar looks rushed to his side. They all shared the long, dark hair and black eyes. Neville was left to assume they were triplets. Suddenly, the boy straightened up and looked at the intruding professor and spoke in sharp, quiet tones.

"My apologies Professor, I had not intended to start a fight so early on in the semester." He had a very polished way of talking that left Neville feeling slightly askance.

"Similarily, I had not planned on assigning detention so soon either. However, you lot leave me no choice. To whichever house you get sorted into, a loss of twenty points each and detention this Saturday night with me." Neville shook his head and ran a hand through his wind blown, brown hair. "Now that's all sorted out, follow me first years so we can get you sorted."

The motley mix of first years trudged behind him, the former excitement having dissipated at being punished. They finished the trip up to the castle where all the students left their luggage in the entrance for the house elves to take care of. As they approached the huge doors that led into the Great Hall, Neville stepped up to the top of the stairs and turned around to look at all the students. He recognized a few familiar children such as Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, but for the most part didn't see any close family friend's children.

"Alright first years, we're about to step into the Great Hall. I'm gonna stand at the top of the steps and call out your names one by one. When I call your name, you come up and sit on the stool and I'll place the sorting hat on your head." He glanced over the children, checking reactions and the like. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt to get sorted, despite what some older siblings might have said." He saw a few children get irritated looks on their faces and assumed the situation was true for a few. "Keep a good attitude, Alex, you'll be taken to Pomfrey after the feast and then led to your dorm." He finished off the little speech and turned around to open the large, double doors.

Neville always felt powerful when he led the first years down the Great Hall for the very first time. He remembered the experience very well, and the feeling of awe never really goes away. He saw his colleagues in their regular seats at the table. Zabini, professor of Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and former classmate of Neville, was using his fork to poke Professor Van Ruse's three year old twins. The two toddlers, Lilith and Delilah took great pleasure in the look on the Italian's face when the fork started floating and then poking him in turn. Their mother whisked the fork out of the air and shushed the children. He saw Minerva laugh at their antics before turning to whisper in Pomfrey's ear about something or another. Trelawny looked tired, probably spent too much time up last night predicting the deaths of half of her future students. Hermione Weasley was looking over all the students with an eager look in her eyes, ready to force Muggle Studies down their throats. And then the biggest surprise, Lucius Malfoy, preening himself quietly in the corner, was currently deeply involved in a conversation with Charlie Weasley. The two professors of Potions and Care of Magical Creatures respectively, seemed unwilling to stop conversing, even when Minerva leaned past Pomfrey and told them to stop talking, they lingered over the topic.

Brushing off his distraction, Neville stepped up onto the elevated platform and turned around to see the first years. They lined up in a mass of bodies along the front of the few stairs and stared at him with wide, excited eyes. He awkwardly straightened his robes and unrolled the scroll. He remembered his first time sorting the first years and fought the urge to blush. He had stuttered over every name on the list, Minerva cringing every time. The next year, she had gone over every name with him just to make sure he wouldn't stutter as much. He had greatly improved since those times. Now, Neville picked the sorting hat off the stool and began to read off the names one by one like a professional. It wasn't until he had reached the "L's" that he recognized a child.

"Lupin, Teddy." The metamorphagus walked steadily towards the stool, nearly making it there with no problem until he tripped on the last step. The boy face planted the floor and stayed there, too embarrassed to rise and face the rest of the students. Neville reached forward and offered the boy a hand. He stood resolutely however, trying to regain his dignity. He then sat down in the chair and patiently waited while the sorting hat did its job.

"Gryffindor!" The sorting hat cried out, seconds before the table dedicated to Godric Gryffindor began to cheer. The students eagerly welcomed Teddy into their ranks and made space at their table for him. Neville smiled slightly, proud to see another child join his house. His job continued on in its own monotony until he called out the last name of a familiar person.

"Snape, Selene." The hall went into an unnatural hush. They had heard rumors that Snape had descendants, but they had thought they were just that: rumors. He was in the process of placing the hat on her head when the sorting hat called out her house.

"Slytherin!" Salazar Slytherin's house cried out in obnoxious pleasure. The young girl smirked, very similar to a blond brat Neville knew in his youth, and made her way to the table on the far side of the hall. He vaguely heard applause from the teacher's table, so he turned around briefly to see Emmeline Van Ruse, the mother of the toddlers and the professor of History of Magic, clapping loudly. He figured the girl was a friend of the family.

"Snape, Skylar." The girl was shy, she glanced around nervously for a moment before swallowing hard. She seemed to steel herself against the situation by standing up straight and gripping her hands into fists. She stepped up to the stool with determined steps and turned around with a flourish. She seemed very much like her name sake at that moment. Neville had a flashback of his first day in Potions when Snape had entered the room with a flourish, long, black robes swirling behind him. She was very much like the deceased man. The sorting hat sat on her head, pondering for a very long period of time before coming to it's decision.

"Gryffindor!" A confused look crossed her face. Neville was baffled as well. He figured that since both her parents were Slytherins, she would be one too. There is always someone to break the cycle. Gryffindor table seemed a bit delayed in their excitement, but welcomed her warmly nonetheless.

"Snape, Solan." Bloody hell, they really were triplets. The self assured boy strode up the stairs and sat on the chair, a smirk pinned on his face. He reminded Neville very much of the blond teacher sitting at the table right now. So it was to his and the rest of the Great Hall's surprise when the sorting hat called out,

"Gryffindor!" The boy looked speechless. His eyes were wide and his jaw dropped. He looked at Neville, searching for some proof that it was just a mistake, a fluke, a ridiculous problem with the sorting hat. Neville could only gesture for the boy to join his table. The boy stood up and slowly walked to Gryffindor table before taking a seat beside his sister. Again, the excitement faded away and more students were sorted before Neville recognized the last familiar face.

"Weasley, Victoire." The blonde, freckle faced girl smiled warmly before taking her seat on the stool. Brief moments passed before the sorting hat called out,

"Hufflepuff!" She grinned broadly, then joined her table.

The sorting was finally over. Neville was thankful for peace at last. His throat had gone dry and he was longing for a long drink of pumpkin juice. He took his side next to Professor Van Ruse and chuckled at the two little toddlers grinning at him. He took a sip of his juice and turned to the woman next to him.

"You know the Snapes I suppose?" He asked, eager for conversation. She smiled broadly and nodded.

"They're my children." Neville choked.

"Excuse me, what?" A very Slytherin smirk settled on her face before she spoke.

"Severus and I were the best of friends back in school, so it was only logical for us to end up together. He died before I was able to tell him I was pregnant with his children. Of course," She paused, a strange look crossing her face, "I didn't truly become pregnant until three months after his death."

"Then they can't possibly be his children." She laughed at him.

"Of course they're his children, it's a Phoelinx ability. In the unique case of a lover dying, we can carry their sperm in a sort of stasis until such a time as the woman is ready to bear the child."

"So you carried his sperm in your body for three months before you allowed it to do it's business?" The idea was ridiculous.

"Yes." Apparently it wasn't to her.

"Nevuw." One of the toddlers, either Lilith or Delilah, he really counldn't tell, said his name. He turned to her, still baffled by the information he was processing and responded before he knew what was coming out of his mouth.

"That's Professor Nevuw to you."


End file.
